


Soaring High

by Nariko_d



Series: Crossing Boundaries [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 05:13:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2012250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nariko_d/pseuds/Nariko_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As an ex-convict, Dean never imagined his life would turn out like this. Now that Castiel was his, he wasn't letting go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soaring High

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second epilogue (and final installment) to my Crossing Boundaries series. This won't make sense without reading the main story and the first epilogue.
> 
> I want to thank my beta, pinkyapples (who I forgot to thank in the first epilogue!), for her thoughts and insights with this entire story from beginning to end. 
> 
> Now I hope you enjoy this final epilogue.

Dean vigorously rubbed his head with a towel, shivering a little as he left the warmth of the bathroom. He padded into his room, pausing with a smile spreading across his face as his eyes landed on Castiel.

His lover slept soundly on his stomach, head turned towards Dean. His lips were parted slightly and he had one hand tucked beneath his cheek. The white sheets were twisted around his legs and rested beneath his torso, baring his naked back and ass to the weak sunlight peeking through Dean’s windows. He looked absolutely gorgeous, and Dean couldn’t resist the pull of the beautiful image. He moved closer and sat gingerly on the bed next to Castiel’s hip, reaching out and brushing his fingers through Castiel’s hair. 

Castiel scrunched up his nose and grunted a little before turning on his side and curling up. He sighed contently and his breath evened out again. Dean chuckled and leaned down to nuzzle his neck. Castiel moved and rolled over onto his back, arm thrown across his stomach and his crotch now visible to Dean’s greedy eyes. 

As lovely as Castiel’s morning wood was, though, Dean ignored it and continued to shower Castiel’s neck with affection. Castiel huffed and turned away, but Dean plastered himself against his back and kissed his nape, trying to rouse him from his slumber. 

He whispered, “Wake up, baby.”

Castiel moaned softly and shifted. Dean smiled and kissed the back of his ear, and when Castiel turned to face him again, Dean kissed his lips. 

“Good morning,” he murmured as Castiel opened his eyes slowly. His lover blinked sleepily at him. “It’s already ten.”

Castiel grunted unhappily, wrinkling his nose in obvious disgust at being woken up against his will. He grabbed the sheet. “Too early,” he complained blearily, yanking the sheet over his head.

“You usually get up earlier than this,” Dean commented, tugging at the sheet. Castiel held on tight. 

“Not on a Saturday.”

Dean chuckled at Castiel’s muffled response. “Come on, we have things to do.”

Castiel brought the sheet down just enough to glare at him. His nose and mouth were still covered. “What things? It’s cold and wet outside. I don’t want to go anywhere.”

“It’s cold, but not wet. The sun is even out today. And who says we’re going anywhere?” Dean indicated the bedroom at large. “We’re staying in and figuring out where to put your stuff.”

Boxes and bags were piled not only in the bedroom, but also in the living room. Work had given them the excuse to walk around a box or kick aside a duffel bag, but now that it was Saturday, he really wanted to put Castiel’s things away so the apartment wouldn’t look so cramped. He already stubbed his toe twice in the dark.

“Don’t want to,” Castiel grumbled, pulling the sheet over his head once. “Can’t we do it tomorrow?”

“Nope, we’re doing it today, otherwise we’ll still be bumping into shit every time we take a step.”

Castiel lowered the sheet again. “I told you it’d get crowded if I moved in here.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the excuse. He didn’t get why Castiel was resisting so much, especially when he had a lot of stuff in his apartment anyway. It only made sense for Castiel to move in with him since Balthazar took possession of the house.

Dean could still remember how Castiel had sounded when he called him and told him what happened. Castiel had been shaken, words broken and breathing hitched as he asked for some cardboard boxes before explaining how Balthazar had kicked him out. Dean hadn’t even been half-way to work before turning around and doing what Castiel had asked. It had been a messy process while they randomly threw things in boxes and bags before putting them in their respective cars. Once they had reached Dean’s apartment, Castiel had fallen apart.

If Dean had been more insecure or selfish, he would’ve felt threatened by how broken up Castiel had been over the end of his marriage, but he wasn’t threatened at all. Castiel chose him, and that was enough for him to see the root of Castiel’s grief. Balthazar hadn’t been just a husband or a lover. He had been a friend, and the loss of that was what made him unhappy. Being the cause of Balthazar’s pain only added to it. 

Castiel seemed to be doing a lot better, and for that Dean was grateful. He couldn’t stand it when Castiel was unhappy. 

“There’s room for both of us,” Dean said, determined to break down the resistive walls that held Castiel back from officially moving in with him. “Besides, we used to share a six by eight cell. This is definitely better than that.”

“We also didn’t have much besides the clothes on our back. We have _things_ now, which take up room.” Castiel lowered the sheet and perched up on an elbow. “I should just look for an apartment.”

“No.” Dean propped his head on a hand. He reached out with his other hand to stroke down Castiel’s arm. “You don’t have to do that when you have a place here. You were practically living with me, anyway.”

“That was before I had to grab all my stuff from my—” Castiel’s words faltered. “From Balthazar’s house,” he finished a little shakily.

Dean figured that it would take some getting used to for Castiel to refer to his former home as just Balthazar’s house, the same way he knew it would take a while for Castiel to adjust to the fact that Balthazar was now his ex.

The return of the British dick—he would always be a dick for insulting Dean’s mother—had burst the blissful bubble Dean and Castiel had been living in. It wasn’t that Dean had forgotten about Balthazar per se as he and Castiel got to enjoy each other all over again. It was just that he had pushed Balthazar so far into the back of his mind that he hadn’t really thought about him except for the occasional stray thought. He had almost forgotten that Castiel was still very much martially bound to somebody else.

God, the toll it would take on Castiel to go through a divorce would be heavy. It worried Dean, if he were honest. It would be a complicated mess, that was for sure, and it wasn’t going to be easy. Castiel had said that they had gone out of state to get married, but Dean wasn’t sure how a same-sex divorce worked in Kansas, and there was personal property and finances that needed to be split up, the house included. How did one go about figuring out the parameters of a same-sex divorce in a state that didn’t even recognize the marriage? 

All he knew was that Castiel would need someone to help him through it, and to make sure the stress, both physical and emotional, didn’t consume him. He would have an easier time taking care of Castiel if the man was right here in his home permanently. 

“Look, babe,” Dean said, “my apartment is big enough for two. It only seems crowded now because my stuff is all over the place and your stuff is currently in boxes and bags. But once we have everything arranged, it won’t seem so bad.” He grabbed Castiel’s hand, squeezing his fingers. “Besides, I _want_ you here, okay?”

Instead of looking appeased, Castiel’s expression became worried. Dean frowned. “Cas, talk to me,” he urged. “What’s going on?”

Castiel chewed on his bottom lip. “I don’t want to mess this up, Dean.”

“What do you mean?”

“I already ruined one relationship. What if I move in with you and fuck up our relationship, too?”

Dean snorted. “That’s impossible.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Cas—” Dean sighed and laced their fingers together. “I broke up with Lisa to be with you, remember?” Even if Castiel didn’t, Dean sure as hell did. Maybe admitting that he had slept with Castiel and wanted to be with him hadn’t been the smartest move when explaining to Lisa why he was leaving her. Dean might not have walked away with a stinging red cheek after she slapped him if he had fibbed and gave her a less insulting reason.

And it was obviously not a good thing to remind Castiel of that, either, because now his eyes were filling with guilt that wasn’t his to bear at all. That honor fell on Dean. “Don’t do that,” he scolded softly before moving on from the Lisa subject. “I pretended to be friends with you for weeks just so I could spend time with you. And as you recall, I have your name tattooed on my arm and your very gorgeous eyes tattooed on my chest.”

“Of course I remember,” Castiel muttered, rolling on his back and lifting Dean’s arm. He traced the Enochian letters. “What does this have to do with anything?”

Dean brought Castiel’s hand to his lips, kissing the fingertips. “Because I’m committed to this. I’m so committed that if there’s anything that tries to split us up, it can go fuck itself, and that includes your fears.”

Castiel snorted, and Dean smiled at the amusement on his face. Good. He didn’t like the uncertainty Castiel had about their relationship. 

“How romantic you are,” Castiel teased softly, but Dean could still see the doubt in his eyes.

“Cas, I know we’re not going to be perfect,” he said quietly. “We’ll fight, bitch at each other over stupid things, and probably tell each other to go to hell from time to time. Hell, we might even walk out of the apartment for a night or two and crash on somebody else’s couch, but you know what we’ll do afterwards? We’ll forgive each other. We’ll make up. We’ll kiss and laugh and have hot make-up sex, but most importantly, we’ll always come back.” 

He kissed Castiel’s palm. “You could give me your worst and I won’t leave you.” Dean smirked. “I’ll probably spank your cute little ass,” he teased just to get another laugh out of his lover, “but there’s nothing you could do that could push me away.”

Dean could see Castiel’s resistance fading with each word spoken. He drew Castiel closer and kissed him just to make sure those resistant walls came completely down. Castiel was always so much easier to convince after a few kisses. “Move in with me,” he murmured. It was a redundant question, since Castiel’s things were already there, but that wasn’t really what he was asking to begin with. What he was really asking was for Castiel to stay. 

Castiel cupped Dean’s cheeks and rubbed his thumbs against Dean’s cheekbones. “I can’t imagine being anywhere else,” he said softly, and that was as good an answer as any. 

“Good.” Dean rolled Castiel onto his back and climbed on top. He felt Castiel’s erection against his thigh. “Now, I suggest we make-out some more, fuck, eat breakfast, and then unpack.” Dean leaned in and managed to get in a few kisses before Castiel abruptly pulled back and frowned at him. “What?”

“Don’t you have to see Benny today?”

Dean blinked, and then groaned. “No,” he moaned in mock despair, drawing out the word. He dropped his head, forehead hitting Castiel’s shoulder. “I completely forgot.”

Castiel cupped the back of his head, chuckling. He drew his legs up and cradled Dean between his naked thighs. “Good thing I reminded you, then. You know what Benny said if you missed an appointment again.”

Dean grunted in acknowledgment. Benny Lafitte was his parole officer, a stocky man from the South. He was relaxed and friendly, but he took his responsibilities of being a parole officer seriously, and he certainly gave a damn about Dean a lot more than Dean’s first parole officer, who hadn’t given two shits (karma was a bitch, though, because his former parole officer ended up getting arrested just after Christmas for accepting bribes from several of his parolees). He liked Benny more, despite how stricter he was. 

“Fine,” he muttered, “I’ll go and see Benny while you get started on the unpacking and setting things up.”

“I can wait for you.”

“Don’t worry about me. Do what you want, I honestly don’t care how my apartment looks.”

“I can see that,” Castiel dryly, and Dean lifted his head to glare at him. Okay, so maybe Dean wasn’t the greatest at decorating his home, but it wasn’t like he had many guests over. 

“Just for that, you’re _not_ getting a morning blow job.” Dean made to get up, but Castiel quickly wrapped his legs around him and trapped him.

“I think the fact that I’m no longer going to fight you over moving in is something worth getting a blow job for,” Castiel stated.

Dean considered that, and then grinned. “I suppose.” He slid down Castiel’s body. Castiel spread his legs to give Dean ample room to settle in between them. He grabbed Castiel’s cock and gave it a stroke. Castiel shuddered, eyes fluttering. “I could give you a blow job.” He licked the tip, smacking his lips at the sweet taste. “I could finger you while I’m it, too.” He prodded at Castiel’s hole with a thumb. “Would you like that?”

“Yeah,” Castiel said breathlessly.

“Or,” Dean said, releasing Castiel’s cock and sliding his hands beneath Castiel’s thighs. He lifted him just enough to get a better view of his lover’s ass. “I can rim you and jerk you off.” He leaned forward and kissed Castiel’s quivering entrance. “I know how you like my tongue in your ass.”

Castiel hands gripped the sheet beneath him, and Dean got a thrill at how easily Castiel lost control, the shameless way he arched his back and released tiny gasps and moans that revealed how much he was enjoying Dean’s ministrations. He remembered the days when Castiel would worry more about other inmates hearing him than what Dean was doing to him, but Dean had quickly helped him get rid of that kind modesty, mostly because it hadn’t quite belonged in prison. Dean had never had that kind of modesty, having always gotten a little excited at the risk of others hearing him whenever he was having sex.

“Yes, that, please,” Castiel said thickly.

“That what? The blowjob or the rimming?” Dean blew at Castiel’s hole, smirking when it winked in reaction. 

“Can’t I have both?” Castiel asked, looking a little anxious.

“Nope. One or the other.”

Castiel groaned and covered his eyes with an arm. After several seconds, Castiel threw out his arm and twisted, yanking his legs from Dean’s shoulders and getting them under him until he was on his hands and knees. His ass was up and presented. “Rim me,” Castiel demanded. 

Dean laughed and got on his knees, grabbing Castiel’s asscheeks and spreading them wide. “Sure?”

Castiel moved backwards, wiggling his butt. “Would you just get your tongue in my ass?”

“Bossy,” Dean muttered, but he loved it whenever Castiel wasn’t afraid to ask for what he wanted. “Your wish is most definitely my command.”

**

Benny was waiting for him at the designated cafe where they met for his parole meeting. The cafe wasn’t crowded, so it didn’t take long for Dean to find Benny sitting at a booth where he was currently flirting with a redhead who was bending down just enough to show off her ample cleavage. 

“Very professional of you,” Dean said when he approached them, clapping Benny’s shoulder. He smiled at the waitress who promptly straightened, looking very flustered. “Though I guess when you see someone as beautiful as her, can’t really blame you for acting a little unprofessional.”

The waitress—Megan, according to her nametag—laughed softly as the slight pink tint in her cheeks receded. “You know, it’s not every day a woman gets two handsome men hitting on her.”

“But only one of them will actually follow through,” Benny stated, giving Dean an arched look. “My companion here is in a committed relationship.”

“Committed, not blind,” Dean assured her before sitting down across from Benny.

“Either way, I highly recommend you pay no attention to him, sugar,” Benny suggested to the waitress.

Megan smiled. “How about I treat both you gentleman to drinks on the house?”

Dean whooped. “Won’t say no to that. I’ll have a beer.”

“Anything you have on tap will be fine,” Benny added.

Megan nodded and left, leaving the two men alone. “Freshly divorced and already looking for a rebound?” Dean asked.

Benny snorted. “More like having harmless fun.” He leaned back and studied Dean. “But let’s talk about you. Still being a good boy?”

“Sure thing. Cas is keeping me in check.” Dean couldn’t help but grin at the mention of his lover. “He’s the reason why I’m here right now. I almost forgot about our meeting.”

“Good thing you didn’t, otherwise I would have had to put out a warrant for your arrest.”

Benny was only joking about the arrest warning, Dean was sure. The first time he had accidentally missed their meeting, he had gotten off with a warning that if he missed another one he’d be thrown in jail for the night. Dean had no doubts that Benny had meant it, but he really didn’t think Benny would need to go as far as send out a warrant to arrest him. Dean’s car chase after killing Jonathon had been a hard lesson in running away from the law.

“Anyway,” Dean said, “Cas is sending me on errands right after I finish up here with you. Groceries, pick up dry cleaning, the works.” He beamed. “He officially moved in with me.”

“Hasn’t he been practically living with you anyway?”

“Well, yeah, but not officially. He did go back to the house sometimes, but a lot of his stuff ended up at mine. We felt more comfortable at my place than in his house, anyway.” After their reunion sex last year, Castiel had thought it inappropriate to carry on in the house he still shared with Balthazar, especially when Castiel’s marriage status had been in limbo. “Balthazar came back and kicked him out.”

Benny grimaced, shaking his head. “Know how that feels,” he muttered, perking Dean’s interest. Benny might have shared that he was freshly divorced, but he had yet to share any details of exactly what happened. Benny’s response made him wonder if Benny had been kicked out of his own house as well before the marriage ended. “How’s Cas doing?”

“Good now. He wasn’t doing so hot the day I picked him up, though.”

Benny sighed. “So I’m guessing that marriage is officially a dead stick?”

“Yep. They’re getting divorced.”

“I have a couple of attorneys he might want to talk to,” Benny offered.

“Thanks, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“No problem, brother.”

That was one of the things he liked about Benny. The man knew all about Dean’s situation with Castiel, from their time in prison to the trials they endured before getting back together. Benny had never judged him or Castiel for their actions, and supported them even when Castiel’s own friends seemed to be opinionated on the subject (according to Castiel, a lot of them were siding with Balthazar and were constantly berating him for screwing the dick over).

Megan brought their beers, and Dean watched in amusement as Benny and Megan flirted some more before she took their orders and walked away. “You’re going to hit that, aren’t you?”

“Twenty bucks say her number will be on my receipt.”

“That is not a bet I’m going to gamble on.” Dean sipped his beer. “Bobby keeps hinting that I should take some business courses.”

Benny lifted a brow. “Really?”

Dean placed his beer down. “I think he wants me to take over the restoring cars side of things eventually. Like, completely take over.”

Bobby had praised Dean more than once about his skill in restoring cars. Their list of clients was growing as their reputation became more widespread. Dean even had a client come in from Colorado. _Colorado_. It reached a point where Dean was spending more time restoring cars than he was fixing brakes or wires. He was losing hours as just Bobby’s mechanic, but one restoration project more than made up for it, and if he was honest, he liked restoring cars a lot more than just doing maintenance. 

“That’s a good thing,” Benny said. He looked proud, though it didn’t warm Dean’s chest the way it had when Castiel’s eyes gleamed with pride after Dean shared the news with him. He did appreciate it, however. Too few people in his life looked full of pride when they set eyes upon him. “So why the uncertainty?”

“I haven’t been in school since my GED classes at the prison. And business classes are college level shit. I ain’t got the smarts for that.”

Benny leaned forward, folded arms on top of the table. “You really believe that?”

Dean studied his beer for a second before sighing. “No,” he admitted. “I know I can do it. It’s just that if I do take over the restoration side of things at Bobby’s shop, I’ll have to deal with clients face to face.”

“That scares you?”

“A little.” It scared him a lot. When Dean started to restore cars, he and Bobby had agreed that Dean wouldn’t be dealing with any clients directly because of the chance of being recognized for his past actions. Dean had led everyone to believe that it was a mutual decision, but it was actually Dean who had convinced Bobby to do it that way. Dean had had some shitty experience with a few people who were aware of his prison record, and Dean had been afraid he’d somehow ruin Bobby’s business if people realized who was touching their cars. “I’m not that great with people.”

“Oh, really?” Benny glanced over at Megan. “You seemed fine with her.” He jerked a thumb at himself. “Your first words to me were ‘I hope you’re better than the other guy.’” Benny smiled. “And I’ve seen you with Castiel.”

Dean couldn’t help but grin. “More than you ever wanted to, huh?”

Benny made a face and Dean had to laugh. Because he was a better PO, Benny did a lot more unannounced visits at his apartment, and there was one memorable time when Dean had been fucking Castiel on the kitchen counter so hard he was shouting at the top of his lungs. Poor Benny had chosen that moment to make a visit, misunderstood the screaming, and kicked down the door only to see Dean’s naked ass flexing as he pumped into Castiel. 

Benny had been horrified, Castiel had been slightly embarrassed (more for Benny than for himself) and Dean? Well, he had thought the whole thing was hilarious. Still did, actually. 

“My point is,” Benny said, clearly trying to stay on topic while Dean snickered, “is that you know how to deal with people, especially when it’s something you’re confident about. I know you’re a little self-conscious about some things, but cars ain’t one of them, Dean. You know your shit, and that, my brother, is what clients are going to see when you talk to them about restoring their cars.”

Dean fiddled with his fingers, considering Benny’s words. They were the same words Bobby and Castiel have said. If he took this on, that meant Dean would be working full time restoring cars and getting paid a hefty amount for each vehicle. While the money sounded nice, it was the work itself that appealed to him. He didn’t mind being just a mechanic. It was good steady work fixing people’s cars, but it was a wet dream to stick his hands into a classic car and restore it to its former beauty. If he could do just that, Dean would be happy.

“The local community college is offering classes in the summer,” Dean said hesitantly. “Cas already got me the class schedules.”

“When does registration start?”

“End of next month.”

Benny eyed him. “So?”

Dean shrugged. “I might sign up for a class, see if I really can handle business stuff.” Nerves fluttered in his belly, but he felt the first stirrings of excitement as well.

“Good for you.”

Megan returned to their table with their respective dishes. Dean concentrated on his fries as Benny proceeded to flirt with Megan a little more, who ate it up. After she left, Dean said, “Cas wants to go visit his brother next month in New York. I’m probably going to go with him.”

“You know exactly when?” Benny asked, putting some sauce on his steak. 

“Not yet.”

Benny was quiet for a moment, and then he nodded. “All right, then. Give me the dates when you have them.”

Dean didn’t argue. As his parole officer, Dean couldn’t leave the state without getting Benny’s permission, nor could he leave without letting him know where he was going. It was part of the parolee life. “Sure. And you know how I said my brother might fly out to see me on his birthday? I’m probably going to go out to see him instead.”

Benny frowned. “Why?”

“Jessica can’t get time off work, and Sam didn’t want to leave behind his family. I might just drive, though. That means I might be gone for, like, a week or two.” He’d actually prefer to drive, because as he discovered in January when he went to visit Sam, he had a fear of flying. It had been his very first time on a plane, too, and if Castiel hadn’t been there, Dean was pretty sure he wouldn’t have made it the entire time they were up in the air. The flight back home hadn’t been all that pleasant, either. 

He really didn’t want to get on a plane again, and the idea of driving to California sounded fun anyway. He could catch in a few sights, stay in random motel rooms, and it would only be a couple of days drive if he really floored it. Maybe Castiel would come with him.

“So?” Dean prompted. “Is it cool if I go see him?”

Benny nodded. “Just let me know the dates, and if you’re driving check in with me every day.”

“Got it, captain.” 

**

After lunch with Benny, Dean went to the drycleaners to pick up a couple of suits for Castiel. He entered the small shop and approached the counter where a woman stood, typing on a computer.

“Hi,” Dean said, grabbing his wallet from his back pocket. He opened it and took out the ticket Castiel had given him. “I’m here for pick-up.”

The woman had a strange expression on her face, and Dean noticed her hand shaking a little when she took the ticket. She didn’t greet him, merely disappeared in the back.

“Rude,” he muttered, settling in a chair to wait. 

Five minutes later, the woman returned with two suits in clear plastic coverings. He stood up and grabbed them. “How much?” 

The woman watched him carefully. “Eighteen-fifty.”

Dean retrieved the twenty Castiel handed him and gave it to the woman with a smile. She didn’t return it, merely snatched the bill.

After being handed his change and receipt, Dean was more than glad to get out of there. “Have a nice day,” he said mockingly, no longer willing to play nice. 

He just about reached the door when she said, “Jonathan was my friend, you know.”

Dean froze, hand on the door. He slowly turned around to face the woman again. “What?”

“Jonathan. You know, the man you killed.” She glared at him. “He was my friend.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out who she was. Her blonde hair was gathered in a ponytail and her brown eyes were behind slim glasses. She was average looking, her face clean of make-up, and she was full-figured. 

It wasn’t until he spotted the dark birthmark on top of her right hand that he remembered. “Myra.”

Myra had been bigger back then, with thicker glasses and braces on her teeth. She had been Jonathan’s next door neighbor, and Dean had teased him endlessly about her obvious crush on him. 

She was also the one who called the police on him that night, after walking in on Dean standing over Jonathan’s body.

“Your friend raped my girlfriend,” he responded calmly. He could tell she didn’t believe him. Half the people hadn’t believed him, but that was all right. Dean had made his peace with that.

“Jonathan was a good man,” Myra said. “The best.” Her voice grew thick. “Who are you to take someone else’s life?”

Dean said nothing, letting her have her say. It was the same thing he had done with everyone else who had something to say about his past actions. At first, he had defended himself. Now, he learned to just let them talk. It was easier that way. 

“You never should’ve been let out,” she spat, cheeks flushing rosy and her eyes spitting fire. “Why don’t you go back to where you belong, you bastard?”

When Dean continued to stare at her with a blank look, she hissed, looking upset that he wasn’t reacting to her words. “You’re not welcome here,” she snapped. 

He had expected that. This wasn’t the first small shop he was banned from, and it might not even be the last. Not that it mattered. Dean didn’t even use the dry cleaners anyway. He’d just have to tell Castiel that picking up his dry cleaning was a onetime deal. 

“Fine,” he murmured, and left. 

He put Castiel’s suits into the back before getting behind the wheel. He started up the car, but Myra’s words were still ringing in his head. It was always worst when those kinds of confrontations were with someone who was somehow tied to his past. Strangers were easier to shake off. They didn’t know him, only knew what the papers had reported. But it was those who had known him or Jonathan or even Cassandra that affected him more. Their words stayed with him the longest. 

He tried to push it to the back of his mind as he arrived at the market. Dean quickly parked the car and shuffled inside, grabbing a cart on the way. He took out the grocery list Castiel had written out, and as he glanced over it, he grimaced. First stop was to the produce section to retrieve the requested vegetables Castiel seemed determined to add to his—no, _their—_ kitchen. 

Dean stuck out his tongue as he grabbed broccoli and cauliflower. While he was tempted to pretend that he forgot, Castiel wouldn’t buy it. He hadn’t bought it the first two times Dean had attempted it. Castiel had withheld sex as punishment each time—and that that was _before_ Castiel moved in with him. Dean couldn’t help but grin, though. It was so domestic, and sometimes he still wondered at how he got to have that. 

One year into serving his prison sentence, he had resigned himself to never being happy again. He had made peace with the idea of living the rest of his days alone, and he had been okay with that—until Castiel had walked into the prison, looking terrified and much too innocent to be in a building with rapists and murderers. 

He could have—and sometimes Dean thought he _should_ have—offered his protection from the moment Castiel had arrived, but Dean had been a little too preoccupied trying to dismantle a growing gang who were trying to seize power from Dean (some planted information eventually led to the gang members turning on each other). 

He had been surprised when Castiel had approached him, nervous and anxious. Even if Dean hadn’t been interested in him beforehand, he would have protected Castiel anyway because his blue-eyed angel wouldn’t have survived for too long on his own. With his sexuality out in the open and his inability to fight, he would’ve been brutalized. It had only taken a single request to the warden to have Castiel transferred into his cell so that he could keep a better eye on him.

If someone had told him that he would fall in love with a fellow inmate and go out of his way to find him after he was released, Dean would have snorted and called that person delusional. Love in prison? Fairy tales—until he was the one living it. From the moment he had Castiel on his knees, trying so hard to please him with his mouth even as he feared Dean’s rejection, he had known that Castiel was someone he had to hold on to.

Not to mention that the sex was absolutely fantastic, which was why Dean grabbed the vegetables and threw them in the cart. He’d eat the damn things if it meant not being denied Castiel’s hot body. 

Dean really detested shopping, though. When he first got out of prison, it had been overwhelming to walk into a market and go through the aisles to pick out what to buy. Prior to his arrest and conviction, he had done his shopping at a small mom-and-pop’s store, but the place had been converted to a shoe store some time during Dean’s incarceration. 

Shopping in a franchised market for the first time had been difficult when it was so damn big with aisles devoted to what was virtuously the same thing under different brand names, like an aisle devoted to ten different kinds of meats and another aisle devoted to dozens of sodas and juices. Dean had ended up walking out with nothing, and the next few trips had been done with Bobby. It got better, but only because Dean now treated shopping trips like it was a car race, zooming down aisles and grabbing whatever he needed without thinking about it too much. 

Dean couldn’t do that when he was shopping for Castiel, though, because he needed to grab ingredients that weren’t in his own usual list of items to buy, like sesame oil and Udon noodles.

The sesame oil was what was currently baffling him, because he found three different brands, one of which said toasted sesame oil, and he wasn’t sure which one to take. Dean cocked his head and grabbed two, comparing them. They both looked the same to him, honestly, and he was just about to put them back so he could call Castiel when a familiar voice said, “Toasted sesame oil.”

Dean glanced up sharply, body stiffening long before he made eye contact with Balthazar, who stared coldly back at him. A shopping basket was in his hand. “Excuse me?”

“Castiel likes the toasted sesame oil. That’s the kind he always asks for.”

Dean slowly put back the glass bottles and retrieved the toasted sesame oil. He put it in the cart and grabbed the handle tightly. “Thank you,” he said stiltedly. 

Balthazar didn’t respond, just continued to stare at him like an insect he wanted to squash. It had Dean’s hackles rising, especially when Balthazar’s eyes kept glancing towards his neck. His tattoo. Balthazar had done that a lot during that disastrous dinner last year, always with judgment. Now, his eyes grew harder, flinty, but Dean wasn’t sure if it was his tattoo, his past, or the fact that he had stolen Castiel from him that had Balthazar looking at him like that. Maybe it was all three.

“I’m assuming Castiel is staying with you, then?”

Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Yes,” he answered harshly. “You kicked him out. Where did you expect him to go?”

“I honestly didn’t care.”

He wanted to punch the British bastard, but refrained. “So is this why you approached me? To tell me you don’t give a shit about Cas?”

“No.” 

“If you’re looking for an apology—”

Balthazar barked out a sharp laugh. “Apologizing would entail you acknowledging you did something wrong and actually being sorry for it. I don’t need three guesses to know that you’re not sorry at all.”

“You’re right,” Dean replied. “I’m not sorry.” No point in lying when Balthazar would see right through it. 

“Of course not. Why would someone like you care that you ruined a marriage?”

Dean glared. “I wouldn’t have been able to do anything if there weren’t already cracks there to begin with.”

Balthazar hissed, and his eyes abruptly glowed with rage. “Me and Castiel were happy until you showed up. Cracks or not, we would’ve made it work if you had backed off and actually respected the fact that Castiel was already taken.”

And Dean couldn’t deny that. He wasn’t blind or stupid. Castiel had been happy with what he had, loved Balthazar and would have probably continued to love him devotedly until the day he died, but Dean wasn’t going to feel guilty about Castiel choosing him. 

“I did respect it,” Dean snapped. “But whether you like it or not, Cas wants to be with me. That might seem like a crazy idea because I’m not up to whatever uptight standards you have, but he loves me and I love him.”

Balthazar stilled, eyes widening. He stared at Dean for several seconds before his expression went blank. “He loved me too, once. How positive are you that he won’t find someone else?”

“He won’t leave me.”

Balthazar smiled humorlessly. “That’s what I thought, too. You know, when we were happy.”

Dean was tempted to say that Castiel was now happy with him, that they were both happy, but that would only bring him down to Balthazar’s level. He might not feel all that guilty for stealing Castiel away from him, but it wasn’t like he didn’t recognize that they were happy at the cost of someone else’s happiness. He didn’t have to be sympathetic in order to understand that Balthazar was going through a pretty crappy time. 

Balthazar inhaled sharply. “Tell Castiel that I’m talking to lawyers to figure out what our options are to dissolve our marriage.”

“Right.” Dean relaxed a little as their conversation approached its end. 

“Very good.” 

With nothing else to say, Balthazar grabbed a bottle from the shelf and put it in his basket before walking by him. 

Dean should have just let him go, but a question that had been bothering him for months had him saying, “Wait.” He turned around.

Balthazar had paused and turned slightly, glancing at him. “What?”

“Cas told me that you tried to call the police on me.” Even though Castiel had told him that he had stopped him, Dean had still been wary about policemen banging on his door and taking him away. Dean had been angry at himself for risking his parole like that, and despite weeks passing with no officers at his door, it had taken him a while before he could breathe easily again. “Why didn’t you try again?” 

Balthazar stared at him for one long moment. “Because I didn’t want Castiel to hate me,” he said flatly. “I was furious and maybe I hated him a little for what he did, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to hate me.”

“And now?” If it was the risk of having Castiel hate him was what held him back before, what was holding him back now that he and Castiel were no longer together?

Balthazar snorted. “Other than to give me five minutes of satisfaction, what point is there? What would reporting you to the police do for me? I already lost Castiel. There’s nothing I’d get out of it.” Balthazar looked down. “Absolutely nothing.”

Balthazar briefly closed his eyes before lifting his head up, chin high. He looked Dean in the eye one more time before turning around and leaving Dean alone in the aisle.

Dean glanced at his shopping list, now wrinkled where it was trapped between Dean’s hand and the shopping cart handle. It took him a moment to unclench his fingers. He blew out a breath, now officially rattled after dealing with two unwanted confrontations, one right after the other. When he had himself put together, he continued getting the rest of his assigned groceries as fast as possible. He just wanted to finish and get the hell out, and he didn’t truly relax until he had his paid groceries in the car and was behind the wheel. 

He took a second to stare out the windshield before taking out his phone and calling Castiel.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby,” he greeted roughly. He cleared his throat. “Got all the groceries on the list.”

“Even the vegetables?” Castiel asked. 

Dean closed his eyes, letting his lover’s voice soothe away his rattled nerves from his confrontation with Balthazar and Myra. “Especially the vegetables.” He frowned and opened his eyes. “Are you listening to Metallica?” 

Castiel spluttered a little. “What?”

“I could hear it in the background. Since when do you listen to Metallica? You hate them.”

“Radio.” Castiel laughed, but it sounded kind of weird. “Just something to listen to while I fix up the apartment. Did you pick up the dry cleaning?”

“Yeah.” Dean thought about telling him what happened, but decided against it. It wasn’t important enough to mention at the moment, though he would eventually have to explain why he couldn’t pick up his dry cleaning anymore. “Next stop, Japanese take-out. Hopefully it won’t take long.” He paused, and after a moment’s consideration he said, “I bumped into someone.”

“Who?”

“Balthazar.”

There was silence for several seconds. “What did he say?” Castiel asked quietly.

“Nothing much.” Dean wasn’t going to repeat the entire conversation they had. Castiel didn’t need to know the finer points of it. “He just wanted to pass along the message that he’s talking to lawyers about how to end your marriage.” 

“I see.” Castiel breathed in deeply and let it out slowly. “I suppose I should contact a lawyer as well. I don’t want him to have to figure out everything on his own.”

“Benny gave me the number to a couple of attorneys who might be able to help you out.” He turned on to car. “Hey, how about we skip the take out and I go straight home so we can order in?”

“No,” Castiel shouted. 

Dean flinched and jerked the phone away as Castiel’s unexpected burst bruised his poor eardrum. Frowning, he returned the phone to his ear. “Why not?”

Castiel stuttered. “I just—Maiko’s doesn’t do delivery.”

“Then we order from another Japanese restaurant.”

“No. I want Maiko’s.”

Maiko’s was the sushi restaurant Castiel had been dying to go to but had no one to go with when they had been just friends. It was mostly a sit-down restaurant, but they had discovered that there was an option for take-out when it came to their sushi offerings. The problem was that Maiko’s was closer to Balthazar’s house, which meant it would take him about twenty-five minutes to get there. After his dealings with Myra and Balthazar, Dean wasn’t too eager to go to Maiko’s like he had been earlier. 

He wasn’t sure why Castiel was dead set on Maiko’s when he hadn’t minded ordering from other Japanese restaurants that were a lot closer to home. 

“Please, Dean,” Castiel pleaded when Dean had gone too long without speaking. “I really want the Dragon rolls. I haven’t had them in so long.”

“You had them last month.”

There was a very poignant pause, and Dean could just imagine Castiel’s face, eyes going wide and mouth falling open as he tried to come up with a response. It made him smile a little, and he could feel the last of his anxiety drift away. Castiel always did make him feel better, even when he wasn’t there beside him. Having Castiel in his life made it so much easier to deal with the shit he sometimes went through.

“I’ll make it worth your while later.” Dean arched a brow as Castiel lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “We can finally crack open that rope bondage book you bought, and then try something out of the gay Karma Sutra afterwards.”

Dean’s cock perked, and he arched a brow. “Really?” he drawled with interest.

“Really.”

No hesitation. “Maiko’s it is, then.”

“Thanks.” The Metallica in the background switched to Zeppelin, and Dean smiled. He might have failed to get Castiel into Metallica, but at least he had succeeded with Zeppelin. “I better get back to what I was doing. See you later?”

“Yeah, later.”

After saying their goodbyes, Dean hanged up and pulled out of the parking lot, pumped up about later on and pushing aside thoughts of Myra and Balthazar to deal with another day. 

**

“Honey, I’m home!” Dean called out as he walked into the apartment. He closed the door and placed the plastic bag with the take out on top of the kitchen counter. “I got the rolls you hadn’t had in such a _long_ time.” He chuckled, but it slowly died away when he looked around the apartment. It was the same. The _exact_ same. He blinked at the boxes and duffel bags that still sat in the same spots they had been when Dean left. The tape on the boxes hadn’t even been removed from the flaps. 

“Dean.”

He turned and found Castiel leaning against the bedroom door, dressed in nothing but Dean’s shirt. Dean’s mind blanked and it wasn’t until he heard a thump on the floor and looked down that he remembered the dry cleaning he had still been holding. He cursed and picked them up, but he couldn’t stop looking at the way his shirt ended right on top of Castiel’s muscled thighs. He placed the suits on the couch and approached Castiel intently. 

“I see you haven’t been unpacking like we discussed,” he said, taking in his lover’s appearance from head to bare toes. Damn, he looked good in that shirt.

Castiel smiled and he looked just a little bit pleased with himself. “I have a surprise for you.” He grabbed Dean’s hand and drew him into the bedroom. 

Dean’s hands slid around his waist. “Is this surprise the reason why you didn’t unpack?”

Castiel bit his lip impishly. “Yep.” He wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and kissed him. “It’s something I think you’ll really like.” Castiel just walked backwards until he fell onto the bed, taking Dean with him.

Dean just barely shot out a hand before he fell on top Castiel completely. “Is it kinky sex? Because if it is, you already promised me that.”

“Not that.” Castiel pushed at Dean’s shoulders until he rolled onto his back. Castiel straddled him and grabbed Dean’s hands, placing them on the hem of the shirt. “Take this off.”

Dean didn’t question it. His dick was already hard and aching to be inside Castiel’s tight ass. He lifted the shirt, smiling when he saw that Castiel wore no underwear, but his smile vanished when he pulled the shirt off and saw the bandage on Castiel’s chest. “What the hell is this?” His fingers were already aiming for the white bandage, but stopped inches away. “What happened?” Concern colored his tone.

“This is your surprise.”

Dean blinked. “A bandage is my surprise?”

“Not the bandage. What’s underneath.” Castiel pried at the clear tape that held the bandage, wincing as the sticky surface pulled at his skin when he began to peel it away. “I know I’ve been holding it off, but now that I’m getting a divorce and living with you permanently, I thought it was the right time to do it.”

“Do what?”

Castiel didn’t say anything else, and once the bandage was pulled away, Dean got his answer. Right on Castiel’s chest and in beautiful cursive writing was a tattoo of his name. And it wasn’t just his name that robbed Dean of words. It was the additional apostrophe and letter ‘s’ that truly had Dean speechless. 

_Dean’s_.

Castiel had permanently marked himself as Dean’s, and it was right over his lover’s heart. 

“Do you like it?” Castiel looked at him a little worriedly. “I wasn’t sure if I should include the apostrophe and ‘s’, but it felt right.”

Dean wanted to touch it, but the ink was too fresh and he knew it would be a couple of days before he could. He swallowed a couple of times until he found his voice. “It’s perfect,” he whispered. He laughed in pleasant surprise at what Castiel had done while he had been out. “You weren’t that desperate for the rolls, were you?”

Castiel grinned and shook his head. His cheeks were slightly flushed. “I wasn’t planning on getting it today, but after you left, I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. I realized I didn’t want to wait anymore, and I decided to surprise you. I went to the most reputable tattoo artist there was in the area, but since I didn’t have an appointment I had to wait far longer than what I thought.”

“The Metallica music I heard playing,” Dean started saying, and Castiel nodded.

“That was playing at the tattoo parlor. I freaked out when you told me you were going to come home. I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, that’s why I insisted on Maiko’s. I wanted to be here before you came back.”

“You little sneak,” Dean growled playfully, having a hard time taking his eyes away from the beautiful sight of his name on Castiel’s chest. It took his breath away. Anyone who saw that tattoo would know who Castiel belonged to. They would know that Castiel was his.

Castiel chuckled, lowering his gaze and peering at him through his lashes. “I thought it was about time I got a tattoo that meant more than just a drunken mistake.”

“It’s perfect, Cas,” he said, needing to repeat the words. “You’re perfect,” he whispered just before he kissed him.

Castiel responded, but then wiggled and leaned back, breaking their lips apart. “Wait, let me put the bandage back. I don’t want it to get infected.”

Castiel had barely put the bandage back in place before Dean was on him again, rolling them around until he was on top and in between Castiel’s legs. “You’re so perfect, angel,” he muttered, saying them over and over as he peppered Castiel’s face and neck with kisses. “God, I love you.”

Castiel’s eyes brightened with joy, just like they always did whenever Dean declared his love. He didn’t say it often, not used to expressing such sentiment in actual words, but they came a little easier with each time Castiel looked at him like he was bestowing a precious gift. In a way, maybe he was, because that was what it felt like whenever Castiel said it to him.

“I love you, too,” Castiel said, and Dean closed his eyes to let the words wash over him. He smiled and reopened his eyes to stare into Castiel’s blue ones. “We’re going to be happy, aren’t we?” Castiel asked, and it wasn’t a question stemming from insecurity. Dean knew it was just Castiel seeking confirmation for something he already knew and believed. 

“Yeah,” he said thickly, and again that sense of awe and wonderment filled him for getting to keep this man who saved him in so many ways. “We’re going to be damn happy.”

Castiel was his everything. He was going to spend the rest of his life proving to Castiel that he hadn’t made the wrong choice by being with Dean. Dean knew their relationship wasn’t going to be perfect and that his past was going to cause them issues here and there, but Dean was ready for that. He was ready for anything the world threw his way, because the way he saw it?

The world could just kiss his lily-white ass.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's all, folks. I hope this epilogue, along with the first, tied up those strings that the main story left dangling.
> 
> I want to thank you, the readers, for giving this story the time of day and for taking a moment to comment, leave a kudos, or even just to read it. It brought a smile to my face.
> 
> So what's next for little ol' me? Well, I have two story ideas I'm playing around with right now, but as to when--or if--I get around to finishing one or both is a mystery even I don't know. I do hope to see you the next time I post a new story, though.
> 
> Until next time.


End file.
